Russian Roulette
by Immortal Yin-Yang Sacrifice
Summary: Slash. Train X Sven. A hunter from Train's past, once thought dead, reappears to end what started years ago. Train, though, has no want to finish the fight, and had come to terms with it. Things get out of hand when Sven is dragged into the rivalry...
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Discontinued as of 6/3/12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters except one of the OCs.

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_**Prologue**_

The sound of a bullet getting shot shattered the soft silence that had resided on the area. The morning wasn't really hot, but comfortable. The metal bullet shot through the air, before hitting another gun. That unmistakable sound of a bullet hitting metal rang out, causing the birds to fly off in fright.

_Clank!_

The crushed bullets hit the ground as the world came into focus, things starting to come together. Fresh, green grass shot up into the air as boots dug it out of the ground prematurely, the morning dew making the cut blades glisten as it rained down to earth, only to die.

No one felt bad for the now disembodied grass, the morning dew making it slick anyway. Two people stared each other down, guns in hand. This didn't mean anything, of course... The barrels of the guns shone in the rays of the morning sun, neither letting the other get a chance. In an instant, they were gone again, leaving no trace of their position or where they were. Another gun shot, but from where? When one composed themselves, the other shooter had moved.

It was a deadly game, a dangerous dance, and one mis-step could mean utter disaster that couldn't be recovered. Each watched the other with deadly precision, not letting the other player get the upper hand. It was a game of life... A game of chance. There was only a second to be able to fire, and that was the only opportunity.

Soon enough, the two players would meet each other, guns flaring, hues blazing. Each would make it out unscratched, or that was the assumption. Though, as the game played out, the movements became sluggish as fatigue set in, taking over each body, not allowing it to perform as each wished.

"I'm tired... Of playing around..." One of the contestants spoke, stepping out into the light from under the shadows of the trees. His breathing was harsh as he tried to get air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Beads of sweat ran down his tattooed features, the light catching the drops and helping to illuminate the thin face. Though, this player had two guns, he only held one, being fair. "Lets end this..."

The other nodded, jumping down from a tree, his black gun, with the roman numeral thirteen engraved into the metal, held up. One could tell, he too... Was at his limit.

"One bullet. We fire at the same time. Who ever lives, wins..." The demon continued, the sound of hammers being drawn back rang out, before the click of the trigger, and the hammer smashing into the main of the gun, the gun powder alighting. The bullets shot out, screeching through the air. The winner... Unknown.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"... And that's how it happened." A light voice carried on around the negative space that rested in the car. It held a sense of almost remorse for a deed that had long since passed. Strands of brown covered piercing gold orbs, the wind managing to make it through the window of the accelerating vehicle. The older car bumped and creaked as it made its way down the unevenly paved streets, causing the bell around the male's neck to let out low jingles. The noise was covered by the noise of the car, though it was not in disrepair, it could use a tune-up.

"Are you sure he's dead? If he's not, he is probably going to have a vendetta against you and come after you, Train." Shifting his orange eyes from the long road before him, they focused on the form of his partner. It was only a momentary glance, before they were returned to the road. The hat that rested over his green hair shielded his one eye from the harsh rays of the sun. The other eye was covered in a blind fold, even though it still worked.

"Well," Train started, thinking on the right words. In his past, he wasn't against taking the life of others; it was his job, what he lived for. Now, however, things were different. Taking in a breath, he continued, "I was still in the Chronos Numbers then. I hit him right in the head," moving a hand at that moment, he placed a single digit to his forehead, "and boom. It went everywhere." The memory of seeing the gray matter and blood spewed across the ground was not a welcoming one. At the end of the battle, at the final showdown, he had slipped. Hades' barrel pointed upwards and that was that. The bullet went through; half the face was blown away. Pieces of brain, fragments of skull, hair, and blood littered the forested area. The bullet of the other opponent had hit him, but it only grazed his arm. It healed within a few days, as if it had never happened. If someone could live through that, then... They weren't human.

Silence reined over the car then, Sven focusing on driving, Train looking out the window. The scenery scrolled by, the day peaceful. It was hot; the rays of the sun hitting the blackened pavement, warming up the road beneath them. Clouds rolled in slowly, the blackened puff over-taking the pure light blue of the ocean above them. Thunder boomed in the distance, the air starting to become charged with energy as lightning arched and crashed. Perhaps this was a sense of foreboding, or just a storm.

"Hey Sven," looking to the male in question, a smirk graced the lips of the Black Cat, "we are going to be in town soon, right? I say we go eat!" With that thought, his body tingled with excitement. They had been on the road for awhile to reach the next town, Train's hunger mounting from lack of nourishment. Hearing his stomach growl, the golden hues turned to the road once more. In the distance, the silhouette of the oncoming town made the male's excitement soar. There would be food.

"We don't have the money to get anything big. So don't go pigging out." With that warning, he let the issue slide. He was getting hungry too, but Train had a way of eating up their expenses, literally. "We still owe other people money. It would be nice to get out of debt. That and we need some money to replace and fix our weapons."

Ignoring Sven as he went on about it, Train only focused on the one thing in his mind: food and some milk. That was all he needed to be happy.

Night fell, the rains coming with the appearance of twilight. The artificial lights of the street lamps illuminated the street and the buildings. With the rain falling, the shadows left in the absence of light quivered and grew, making the town feel animated, if not eerie. Heavy rain pelted against the windshield and windows, the doors rattling slightly from the force. Hunger won over the storm, though. Opening the door, lightning cracked, Train stepping out into the wet streets. The rain didn't bother him. With his hands in his pockets, he headed into the restaurant, Sven in tow. Here, they could eat a good meal and get an update on Sweeper status, as well as taking some much-needed jobs.

Warm air assaulted his form when he opened the door, fluorescent lights shivering in the background. Stepping into the building, the water dripped from his wet clothing, hair matted to his skull. Letting his pools drink in the scenery, Train stepped inside. Walking through, he stopped, staring at one of the wanted posters.

Watching Train, Sven blinked when the Sweeper stopped. It was hard to distract Train from food, especially when it was on his mind. Walking over to Train, he looked at the poster. It was a wanted poster, one with an odd-looking male in it. The male looked no more than twenty, having glowing orange eyes. His features were delicate, something unexpected when dealing with killers. The hair on the male was oddly colored: It was raven black tipped in a brighter green, the darker coloration of the hair causing the pale features of the face to stand out. Red tattoos graced the face of the male in the poster, but other than that, and the reward, it looked like a normal wanted poster. "Train, are yo-"

"Sven, I think we have a problem."

"Oh dear dear..." A low voice chuckled, mis-colored orbs taking in the sight of the car. "Already counting me for dead? I feel so forgotten." Wrapping his arms around himself, the male took a step forward, taloned toes clicking against the concrete. "I guess I didn't try hard enough, Train Heartnet. I am a weapon, you of all people, should know that. And yet..." moving a hand to his forehead, a slender digit pressed against the flesh there, "you believed that blowing half my face off would kill me? Won't you be surprised once we have our little reunion?" The question left his lips, the demon looking around the empty streets.

By now, Train had surely seen his wanted poster. It could have been an old one, of course. There were no records of the demon living or dying. He was pretty much an anomaly, his existence defied logic. That didn't stop him, however. Watching the restaurant, his gloved hands moved to the guns hoisted on his thighs.

Sounds started to ring throughout the alleyway behind him, the long, jackal-like ears twitching. Bending himself down, he pushed up, jumping onto the roof of a building. Watching the police move through the alley, he started to walk off, twirling one of his guns on his finger.

Lightning flashed, striking the ground. All the lights simultaneously went out in the town, leaving the people with nothing to go by. Mass hysteria would soon follow, as people started to lose their cool. So it began... The demon only smirking in the wake of this development.


End file.
